Remember
by wolfdiamond
Summary: If Bella changed her mind about jumping off the cliff, and she picked up the phone when Edward called. Complete.
1. Chapter 1

The rain begins to fall.

A drop lands on her sweater, then another, and another.

_You smell so good in the rain._

She twists her mind away from the memory, beautiful as it is; she knows the hole where her heart was will endow her with more. She is not surprised that something as unimportant as a drop of rain would have that significant connotation for her.

More drops fall.

Does it even matter any more? Maybe she'll go numb. Then she could remember him without that wrenching, aching pain that reminds her—

_Bella, I don't want you to come with me._

So she remembers.

The crooked smiles and topaz eyes, the way he was so very, very gentle with her. His soft lips on hers and that fiery, passionate desire than burned through her every time he touched her.

The rain falls on her and she collapses to the ground but the conscious part of her doesn't feel the sharpness of the rocks. She can only remember.

The way his eyes burned through hers that last time he looked at her, the icy indifference with which he told her she wasn't his anymore. The way she felt in the seconds after he'd left her.

The rain pours on her, stabs like arrows into her skin. But it doesn't really matter

She stays there so long her clothes are beginning to dry from the rain that fell. She feels better; she gets up and walks to her car. She knows the pain will come later, and Jacob won't be there. She's stopped caring.

She is home suddenly and can't remember getting there. It doesn't matter. She's not thinking anymore.

Just doing.

She unlocks the front door and steps inside. She needs a shower. Charlie won't be happy if she gets sick.

_He needs you. Take care of yourself—for him._

Yes. She needs a shower.

The water is hot on her skin and she doesn't stay under the spray long.

She wraps a towel around herself and walks down the hall to her bathroom.

The phone rings.

She turns around. Back down the hall, slowly down the stairs. To the kitchen. It rings again, urgently.

"Hello?" Her voice is rough, but the croakiness doesn't disguise the dead, unfeeling undercurrents of the sound.

There is a sharp intake of breath.

She knows who it is.

_We won't bother you again._

She is left with a dull tone, so blandly loud that she jerks away.

Suddenly she is broken again and those goddamn tears are streaking her cheeks again and she doesn't know what to do and in this moment she hates him and she loves so very much and the phone falls to the ground and breaks into pieces and so does she and she can't control anything now—the tears, that damn aching _hurt_, and the fact that her towel is coming off but she can't _do_ anything—she can only cry and cry until the sobs don't come anymore and she doesn't want to believe that just the sound of that unnecessary breath can rip her apart so fast that the reaction doesn't take more than three seconds and she doesn't understand _why _he had to call now and it hurts so _bad_.

A/N: So…. My first Twilight fic. I'm pretty sure that I got carried away and that it's not really good at all. Is it crap? Do you hate it? Why? Tell me. I don't know. Seriously. (If it is, please don't mock me for being blind to my untalented nature. It's a rough world. Sometimes I get lost.) Also, I realize the timing for the phone call is off, but let's just pretend Rosalie is quick with her explanition to Edward.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: Thanks for all the reviews!!! Delliz suggested another chapter… so here it is. I'm not so sure how good it is, but I've been asked to continue one-shots before, and I never really do it because I can't think of anything, but O r i g i n a l1's review helped me think of a new idea. I'm really not so sure how good this is, so if it's crap, tell me, please.

It doesn't take him long to get there. He jumps to the window.

She's asleep. To see her face—after all these months—it's bliss.

But his happiness withers away slowly as he sees her up close.

The dull green glow of her alarm clock shines on her face and illuminates the shadows under her eyes, the thinness of her face, the dullness of her hair.

It's hard for him to restrain himself from touching her face, to attempt to light up her smile and make the sadness of her features fade away. Even from just looking at her he can see—she's broken.

And he feels guilt and shame erupting up inside him—he's broken her, the angel who'd given him a chance, who'd loved him back, who was willing to die and give everything away, all for him.

"_You can have my soul. I don't want it without you—it's yours already!"_

Slowly, her sleeping form turns to face him. Fear is etching itself on her face. She turns away from him now, then back. Her restlessness makes him ache to touch her again, to cradle her in his arms and beg for forgiveness.

"_Don't be ridiculous. You're the very best part of my part of my life."_

He remembers how goddamn hard it was to lie to her and watch her confusion melt away to reveal that numb, disbelieving look on her face. How all he wanted to do was tell her it was all a lie and that he could never live without her. How excruciating it was for him to just stand there as he shattered her heart. The way she seemed to crumple under the weight of his words, how she froze and stared at him with those pain-filled eyes as he broke her.

"_You…don't…want me?"_

And now, tears stream down her too-thin cheeks—that've left behind that enticing blush he always loved—as she gasps, as her body is wracked with sobs. Her shoulders shake with the force of her tears.

Suddenly, she screams—a scream to makes him ache so much to hold her and comfort her he doesn't realize he's on her bed next to her until she turns to face him.

She's awake. He's startled, but she's only mildly surprised.

He hears Charlie wake and jumps to leave, but she shakes her head. "He stopped coming a long time ago." Her voice is flat, dead. She sits with her arms around her knees, with her head, turned to face him with an inquisitive stare, resting on them.

The way her eyes stare blankly at him, with only a hint of a smile playing on her lips, confuses him. He expected her to be a little more confused, but she looks like she's been expecting him. The green light of her clock shines around her. He sits down in the chair behind him.

"Where did you go?"

"No where special."

She continues to stare at him, her eyes wide and blank but a wry smile forming. "This is ironic."

He is thoroughly bewildered. "Why?"

Her eyes don't leave his face. "As soon as I give in, I can't think of anything."

Her words baffle him. He is about to respond but she speaks first. "Tell me you love me." For the first time that night, her words make sense, but her eyes are unsure, fearful, and pleading. Her lip trembles. He looks at her, but her eyes dart away. She bites her lip.

"Never mind. I don't know why I said that." Her words are rushed, hurried, and her eyes are nervous. "Talk to me."

He is still completely perplexed. He doesn't know what to say. She is still looking away when he says, "I love you."

Her eyes rush back to look at him, and she draws a shaky, relieved breath. "I thought you would be faster to say that. I must be snapping."

Her words still don't make any sense to him. "What do you mean?"

Now she's confused. "Well," she begins slowly, "Since you're a figment of my imagina—"

"You're not dreaming." He smiles slowly.

She looks at him pleadingly, wishing it could be true. "Prove it," she whispers.

His lips are on hers before she can react and they are hard and kissing her fiercely, but she pulls away, and asks through teary eyes—

"Edward?"

A/N: Sorry about that last part—I didn't want Charlie to barge in, and I couldn't think of anything else. Please, please review. They really mean a lot to me.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Holy shit!!! I've never gotten so many reviews so fast. I love everyone who reviewed, put this story in their favorites, and on alert. Like I've said before, I really don't know how great this chapter is going to be, because I didn't think this far into the story; it has come purely through encouragement from my lovely, awesomely cool readers. So, if you like it, congratulate yourselves.

Her disbelief only masks her hurt for a second, and soon he sees the same fear, the same hurt that scarred his thoughts while he was away from her, only now, she's not shielding it at all, and all he sees is pure pain, full and deep in her eyes.

Soon enough her breathing is not normal—her chest is heaving, her heart is beating faster and faster—but strangely enough, she does not fight for control, like she's done all those other times, like she fought when he left her, so much that it incapacitated her ability to walk.

"_Wait!" she cried in a choked voice, stumbling forward towards him._

But now, she is not closing herself against the pain, not even trying to fight it. Her chaotic breathing is increasing, her heart beat is much, much too fast, but she continues to stare at him through the tears streaking down her face.

And all he wants to do is wipe away her tears and pretend he never left her, pretend he could never do anything like this to her, pretend that everything is fine and that she's not broken.

But her eyes do not allow that. They stare, tear-filled, hurt, and completely bewildered into his own. That overwhelming pain, coupled with the unbearable confusion, is too much. He cannot keep from wiping a thumb along her jaw, taking away the tears.

She shudders, gasping. Her eyes flutter closed for a moment, and when they open a tiny bit of the hurt is gone. He wipes away the tears on the other cheek, but now she holds his hand there with her delicately soft and fragile one. It feels exhilarating to have her skin on his again, and it's all he can do to keep from pulling her into a kiss again. Her heartbeat is still too fast, and her breathing is not improving.

"W-why?" she stutters. Her too-thin face is still open and hurt and confused; he wants to do all her can to make that expression leave her face.

"I'm sorry," he whispers. Her eyes widen again; her heart beat begins to throb wildly and frantically again. "I lied.

"I can't live without you. I tried—to protect you. But I can't. Forgive me," he pleads, his eyes desperate, his tone distressed. "I can't survive much longer. When Alice thought you were dead—"

Her face is filled with guilt, her eyes now bearing more pain. "I wasn't going to kill myself," she chokes. "It was supposed to be for fun."

"Bella, please, please forgive me. I didn't—"

Suddenly she is kissing him through her broken smile, tears sliding gleefully down her face as her hands tighten around his neck. Her lips are frantic and careless as they kiss him, her hands eager and fervent as they wrap around his neck. It makes him ache with desire to kiss her more deeply, to give in to her willful touches, to touch her and make her better…

But too soon she is pulling away, gasping for air, her chest heaving and heart throbbing, but now it means something else entirely.

He holds her close and she leans into him, panting, and he knows he can fix her.

A/N: Please tell me if the dialogue was really bad; I don't write a lot of it. Also, this may be the last chapter. I'm trying to think of things to follow this, but I'm not really coming up with any good ideas. I think this chapter brings the story to a close. Once again, thank you sooo much for all those fantastic reviews. I loved all of them. They really mean a lot to me.


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